


The Future is Lined with Roses (And a lot more flowers)

by BurlesqueWitches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, M/M, also i like Meg, also this is my first story on here, but she isnt the best person in this, flower shop au, haha how fun, pretty much flower dorks, sorry about that guys, specifically, who doesnt want a bunch of happy nerds though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 06:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3436106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurlesqueWitches/pseuds/BurlesqueWitches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak are two workers in a city flower shop low in business. Though one can say the simple things are nice, going out of business and suffering while doing so isn't preferred. So as they work together in their job and problems get more obvious, the two may finally just fix them together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Future is Lined with Roses (And a lot more flowers)

Goddamnit, not another one. There went crashing another one of the stores potted plants, muddy clay bits, dirt, and even a seedling of some flower that probably didn’t have a chance anyways. Not in this place.  
“Seriously Dean? I’m not asking you to break everything! This one’s out of the pay like the last. Not like you're getting much cash by now anyways.” Dean sighed as the angry voice got closer with a track of stomping behind it. Didn't take long for Dean’s boss to come over, staring at the mess.

The man’s name was Zachariah, which you would expect to run the place. After all, it wasn't called Zachariah’s Flower Shop for nothing. But it wasn't like he looked like the man to run a flowery place, but Dean wasn't one to look like he worked there either. This place was just run by a bunch of desperate people trying to make some cash in a dump of a city, offered the roles by family who didn't actually care.  
“Jesus Christ man, this is...what, the fourth mistake this week? You’re lucky I even hired you, you know that? Clean this up, no one is gonna come in when there’s broken crap everywhere.” Zachariah ordered, slamming a hand down on the wooden counter with the register.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Because it’s such an honor to work in a dump like this, so I gotta clean it up just for you. Because so many people come here, right? All this effort and respect, I just love this job.” Dean spat back dripping in sarcasm, going across the room and grabbing the broom anyways. He could be as snarky as he wanted, he wouldn't get fired. But, despite his words, that didn't mean he wanted to make the place respectable in case someone actually did care about the shop enough to come in.  
Zachariah was gone back into his office again, Dean quickly brushing the disaster up and tossing it in the trash. He sunk in a chair by one of the stands of a particularly tall plant, looking around and wondering why he hadn't quit. This place was as bland as it got. All it had was pale yellow walls, some sort of brown tile underneath his feet, and a bunch of your average plants. Yeah, you might get a nice rose here and there, maybe even a lovely lilac sort of thing going on, but this was downtown city area. Who suggested and agreed to this stupid plan?

Dean guessed that, yeah, he actually did agree with said “dumb idea.” His little brother Sam got to be a lawyer, and Dean was stuck here. As any brother would be, he was proud of Sammy, but you would also get that twinge of regret. ‘I could have been that sort of special person that people actually cared about’ and ‘I could have had an important life ahead of me, and not sleep in some uncomfortably bug infested hotel bed’ were frequent thoughts some nights.  
Before Dean could start regretting anything else out of what he thought was a terrible choice in his past, the shop bell rang and the door pushed open lightly as a motorcycle drove off loudly. He didn't have to glance up, he knew who it was. The only one person ever actually came in. The distant motorcycle noises were new, at least. 

Wearing a trench coat and twisted blue tie was coworker Castiel, who worked here a bit before Dean. Dean didn't know exactly why Cas worked here, but he never had the place to ask or too much mind to do so. After all, they didn't talk much for being the only two there, but they shared their looks and worked close by the other. Not like there was much space in the shop, but it still applied. That was good enough for Dean most days, and he just assumed the same for Cas. Staying near the guy was a blessing on its own, he supposed.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel slightly waved, moving behind the counter and opening drawers. “Do you happen to know where the first aid is?” He called over, catching Dean’s attention.  
“It's where it always is, Cas. You're kinda close.” With the aspect of that being a terrible answer to about anything, Dean pulled himself up out of his seat and wandered over, brushing past a minor display of red carnations and soft pink gerberas. “Why do you need it anyhow?” He opened a drawer behind Castiel, who was already following him at quite the close range.

On that note, Castiel took off his trench coat to reveal both his white work uniform, but more importantly a bruised and semi-bloody arm he stuck out to Dean. “Minor troubles earlier in the day, nothing that isn't my own fault, honestly....” He explained calmly, hanging up the trench coat on the hook by the door. “No need to worry.” Castiel added before Dean could even say a word to go against it.  
With a forced shrug, Dean grabbed the kit and turned to stare Castiel uncomfortably. Just a bit close, Dean could probably brush against him if he took the tiniest step forward “Probably not as much of your own fault, unlike me breaking another pot earlier. My luck, right? Anyways, not gonna let you bleed on the plants, though.” Dean joked despite the wary eyes he had at the injury. He knew he should really question more, but all he ended up doing was stepping back for some needed space and grabbing Castiel’s arm gently by the wrist.

Castiel kept a stone face, watching Dean’s every move as he cleaned the blood from the thin marks and started to wrap some bandages up. Not like there was any pressure there at all added to the whole ‘if you do one thing wrong this man is definitely strong enough to break your nose on possible bad reaction so don’t hurt the damn wound for your own good’ thing.  
“Bandages not too tight?” Dean questioned, hand still locked on his wrist until he was done checking over it. “And any other wounds?” He looked up and down Castiel’s body, who still was looking at him either curiously or annoyed. Dean told himself he was good enough that Cas was just curious. Or perhaps he more hoped that.

“Nothing that won’t be fine by itself, but thank you. It seems quite the good job...Speaking of which, we should probably get to work, Dean.” With a tone of gratitude, Dean knew he was in the clear. Finally letting go of Castiel’s wrist of lingering a bit too long, the newly bandaged man gave a small nod in gratitude and went over to the displays at the window. 

“I see you reset the display with the blue hydrangeas and white orchids. It’s...quite quaint. I like the colors.” With that sly compliment from Castiel, the duo brushed past each other and went to their regular schedule of silence and tending to the plants. When they didn’t do so they made sure they had enough materials and would try and set up advertising. The day went back to being like any other for them. Zachariah only came in once or twice to give them an update, yell at them, or make sure they actually were doing work. The angry boss usually gave them all at once. 

\--

The day ended way too quick, the afternoon sun drifting past taller city buildings and dressing the store from it’s pale yellow into deep scarlets and oranges. Lampposts started to dart on as well, dimly until they would grow stronger when night formally appeared.  
“Remember Dean, you’re staying tonight until twelve. You’re still getting here in the morning at the same time.” Zachariah reminded, putting on his own muddy brown coat. Fitting to his crude personality one could say. “If you're late, I’ll know. Keep the place in good security.” He huffed, pushing outside and driving off in a rickety car with Dean glaring at it until it was too far off and pointless to.  
“Shame you have the night shift. I would take it for you, if I could.” Cas grabbed his trench coat back, slipping it on and facing Dean solemnly. “But you have it this week, and it seems Zachariah is being pretty rough on you already. I don't suppose he would be accepting of anyone trying to make it easier for you.”  
“It’s fine, man. Nothing I can’t handle, even if I know that’s not what you mean.” Dean stepped over, softly patting Cas on the shoulder. The man just replied with a quirk of his own grin before the sound of a motorcycle blasted toward, skidding right before the building.

“That’s my ride.” The hint of any smile disappeared, Castiel taking a deep breath. The figure driving the bike stepped off, trudging inside the building. It was a woman with brown wavy hair, and she slammed open the door so that the bell went crazy.  
“C'mon unicorn, let’s go. You’re supposed to be waiting outside.” She hissed, grabbing his already wounded arm roughly. “Plus, I’m taking you out tonight. So you’re gonna clean yourself up and look good for the public for once. Got that? Good.” She ordered and practically told Castiel what he needed to be thinking for her approval. 

“Ah…..that’s….nice, Meg. I shall do that. Have a nice night, Dean.” Castiel let himself be dragged out by this Meg woman, and it felt like they drove off in moments. Dean felt the lump in his throat at this, making himself turn and face the shop and not the now yet again empty street. 

“See ya, Cas.” Dean spoke to nothing, looking at the lonesome place before him. It would be a long night before him, and so he went to the counter and sat numbly in the chair. The room felt uncomfortably cold now.


End file.
